AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Cruel, I’d say,’ said Max.
‘Aye, no respect for your elders, who risked life and limb for their country over many years.’ Barney looked down at his lighter and lit the roll-up that was between his lips.
‘Ach awa’ and bile your heids, ya bunch of fannies. Come on, let’s get down there,’ said Ross, stifling a smile.
30
THE CRIME SCENEwas a hive of activity cordoned off by blue-and-white scene tape on all sides, and guarded by a uniformed cop clutching a scene log. A large white forensic tent had been erected around the van and a small clutch of crime scene examiners, dressed in white coveralls, overboots and surgical masks, were being briefed by Jimmy Duggan, whom Max knew from previous cases. Jimmy was experienced and thorough, and as crime scene manager he would exercise his cast-iron control over the scene once it had been handed over to him, as was clearly happening now.
‘What ya saying, Jimmy?’ said Ross, cheerfully.
‘Grand thanks, Ross. Nasty one, must have been a great big bugger of a bullet. Practically taken their heads off,’ he said from behind his surgical mask, his accent rich with the tones of Dublin.
‘Where are we with the scene?’
‘Just handed to me now. Photog’s done the business, and Miles has had his first glance. He said Max wanted a quick lookie, and he’s okayed it, is that right?’
‘Aye, it’d be helpful. Max used to waste people from very long distances when he was in Afghanistan, and we think we may have seen a possible firing point on the drone footage, which I hope you’ve seen.’
‘Seen it. Nasty business, and what would we have given for five more minutes battery,’ said Jimmy.
‘So, is Max good to go?’
‘Aye, but just Max, suit up, touch nothing, and name with the loggist, yeah?’ He nodded at the uniformed cop.
‘Done. Go for it, Max,’ said Ross, nodding.
Within a few minutes, Max was dressed in a white Tyvek forensic suit, black overshoes, nitrile gloves and a surgical mask, and he was ducking under the tape that was being lifted by the uniformed cop. He felt his stomach begin to tighten as he moved towards the tent, where the door flap was gently fluttering in the light wind. As he approached, the familiar smell began to hit him, slowly at first. Just a mere waft on the breeze, but growing in strength as he neared the synthetic material. A creeping dread gripped him, and beads of sweat prickled on his back. He rounded the tent but kept his back to it, looking outwards into the stretch of rough, scrubby grass beyond the low fence at the edge of the road. Looking up towards the copse of trees he estimated that it was between four and five hundred metres away, with a reasonable elevation, maybe fifty metres up in total. For a great sniper, it would be an easy shot. For a decent sniper, it would be a little trickier, and Max thought it unlikely that they were dealing with a great marksman. A properly skilled sniper would have considered the position of the sun, and the risk of scope glint. Even with the simplicity of the task it would be in the DNA of a well-trained sniper to pick a better position than the overly obvious copse of trees.
But the shot was on, and it was easy. He could have made it from twice the distance, and he could see several far better positions, from longer distances. His thoughts flitted back to Afghanistan, years ago: the head of an insurgent, framed in the Schmidt & Bender 5-25x56 PM telescopic sight, suddenly vapourised by the .338 Lapua sent by a simple squeeze of his finger on the trigger of the Accuracy International sniper rifle. He felt his skin chill at the memory, and nausea begin to rise in his throat.
Max shook his head to clear the image. He had to look at the scene properly, to see what he was dealing with. What damage had been caused to the victims would tell its own story. He took a deepbreath, the flimsy material of the mask being sucked inwards as he did, his head reeling, knowing that what lay within the scene tent would be as bad as anything he’d seen before.
His heart pounding in his chest, he took another deep breath and drew back the door flap.
Davie Hardie’s body lay on the floor, face up, limbs splayed. Max could only identify the headless corpse because he knew Davie had been outside the van when the sniper struck. Now he was just a gory stump with the glint of a shattered vertebrae and a sliver of jawbone still attached to a portion of the skull. Max forced down the bile in his throat, and looked to the van. A slumped corpse sat in one of the seats, arms by its side, with a similar level of devastation where the bullet had struck, except a little more skull had been left in place.
Max stood stock still, almost frozen to the spot, as he took in the scene of unimaginable horror, trying to process it. He felt his face flush, and a sudden burst of heat began to make his head swoon as the blood surged.Breathe, Max. Breathe, he ordered himself. He inhaled deeply, holding for four seconds, before exhaling for four, feeling the sense of panic beginning to ease. He turned on his heel and left the tent, his head reeling at what he’d seen, trying to force the image of Dippy from his mind. This always happened. Scenes of violent death transported him straight back to Helmand Province. The searing heat, the baked earth, the stench of death. He shook his head again.
‘Not now,’ he muttered to himself as he walked back towards Ross and all the others. ‘Not now, I’ve a job to do.’ His eyes shut tight as he moved.
‘Are you talking to yourself, you bloody fruit loop?’ said Ross, his jeering, piss-taking voice jerking Max into the present again.
‘Aye, only way I get to have a sensible conversation around here, pal. I’m confident that the sniper was in the copse of trees up the slope. We need a dog, and we need armed support in case he’s still up there, although I doubt it very much. He’s had plenty of opportunities to leg it.’
Ross nodded, reached for his radio and began to bark orders into it.
‘Max?’ Janie’s voice was soft to his side.
‘Aye?’
‘Are you okay?’ she said, her eyes full of concern.
‘All good.’ He smiled, weakly.
‘Sure?’ she said.
‘I am now. It’s all good. I just needed to see the bodies, and I still have a job to do.’
